DEFENDER'S RAP

• Close the casket, I'm the reanimation of the soul, Ready to fight the habllitation and rock-alone. Death ain't the surprise, cause everyone dies soon, but I'ma fucking skilled teen, a rap platoon. I'm the Spectre, you're the next dart shot, The next target I drop the bars on. I don't need depths, I don't wanna be merciless, but when I enjoy that (bam) the journey's lit. Death is my symbol, so pay respect to the symbol. The next stamp of death I hit on is probably using a pistol, gonna smash that bullet in your face like I ruined your façade. My bars hit twice as strong as a ICBM, a missile massage. Soon my sounds and bullets will be ringing across your ears, just like hallucination by drugs- but this time your career. Now time to the hit line, back to here. My bars drop speed in ratio is faster than a meteor on the atmosphere. Your life is as bad as your rap career, so give up but I hope you'll hear. My ton of bars are like anvils but with the heated lava. Element fire massacre, murdered your retired relatives, when you made your life a drama. Now bow down in front of me, and don't lie to me, bloke, 'cause when I know you lie I always got you in the scope.